Indecision
by Floating On A Thought
Summary: "She had no idea of the consequences of her eventual choice." With a choice between which half of your heart you want to keep, how do you choose? Which half can't you live without? Moreover... whose heart can you bear to break?


Amy looked at the two men in front of her with almost desperate eyes, and shook her head, her red hair moving, and a small piece catching on the leather jacket she was wearing. Her head was a swirling mass of doubt, pain and confusion, and she had no idea how to deal with the two men who had become the centre of her universe, nor how to choose one.

She took a wary step back, and shook her head again, her confusion and normally hidden low self-esteem rising to the surface. Usually, she hid her uncertainty under a sort-of mask of a headstrong, Scottish woman brimming with confidence. Of course, she was still headstrong – most people called it stubborn – and Scottish, but it had been a rare thing for her to actually feel the arrogance she projected. And right at this moment, even her ability to pretend had deserted her, and she felt so alone in this bleak tundra of negative emotions that threatened to wipe her away and leave nothing behind.

The desire to simply break down and cry was slowly winning her over, and she felt so cold. But she couldn't break down, because if she did, they would know for absolute certain that there was something wrong, and that everything was not alright with the world. She was the pillar, the one that stayed there and held them both up, even if they didn't realise it.

She was the one who supported Rory's choices, the one who drove him when he was lost. The one who he had adored since they had first met and the one who had promised to marry him.

She was the one who calmed the Doctor down when he got into one of his infamous rages, and the one who he could connect with, through their love of the same things. The one who he looked at with those shadowed eyes and the one who he had made promise never to leave.

She blinked, an action which seemed to take many seconds, and cleared her eyes of the salty water which almost erupted and brought all three of them down. She was the strong one, the never-ending source of faith and loyalty, and the one who enhanced their determination tenfold. She couldn't be weak, as if they saw her weak she wouldn't be the strong stone pillar anymore. She would be like the ones seen in the ruins of old civilisations, such as ancient Egypt and Rome. The ones that were crumbled and broken, no use for anything, and were nothing but an echo of a long forgotten and distant past. One which the current times had no wish to acknowledge.

She looked through the blurriness that had obscured her vision as best she could, and her eyes flicked to the man on the right. Rory Williams. The man she was promised to, and was soon to marry. The one she loved with all her heart, yet didn't give it to him completely. The man completely and utterly devoted to her, and the one she spent half her time around feeling guilty because she couldn't even give him all her love. The man, who had stood by her throughout childhood, had put up with her seeming craziness about the 'Raggedy Doctor', and the one she had been able to rely on from day one. The one who would dress up with her, the one who – albeit reluctantly – believed her tall tales, the one who had grown on her. His hair was in its ordinary style, his clothing normal and his brown eyes were pleading. He was asking her silently to choose him, his posture sad. She would not have understood him better even if he had been holding out his hand. He wanted her to pick him.

She glanced to the right, at the man leaning almost innocently against an oddity in the TARDIS' layout. His arms were crossed, and he was about the same distance from her as Rory was. His face was blank, and he seemed to be rather bored with all the happenings. Yet, when the redhead looked into his eyes – the ones that were so bottomless – she could see the darkness and the emotions that spun in a haze within the depths. The darkness that he had warned so much about, and that had first drawn her feelings to him. The Doctor. The man with the bowtie and the fez, the man who babbled on about nothing that was supposed to pass for an explanation, the man who told everything and nothing. The man who hid behind a shield of overwhelming intelligence and very alien madness in order to hide his very human feelings from detection. The man who knew her inside out, who knew she wanted more to her life than marriage and children. Yet, he was also the man who knew how to get along without her; if she left, he would cope. He didn't need her. But he was letting her decide.

Rory needed her, yet the Doctor wanted her. Rory depended on her, yet the Doctor let her be her own person. But Rory didn't swamp her with his personality, nor did he dismiss her as casually as the Doctor did.

This was so complex and heartbreaking, that she was drowning in it; the need to choose was apparent, yet the need to hold them both was so strong she felt so bad. She was breaking four hearts that beat within three separate people simply by her indecision, and it was killing her. She felt so guilty, her greed was appalling, and she was being so _selfish_. She didn't deserve either of them. They both loved her so much in their own ways – this she was sure of, as the Doctor's supposed lazy posture was tense, and his left hand kept fisting at random moments, and his eyes were crimson flames that refused to be quenched – and she loved them both so much her heart felt like it was splitting in two just to accommodate it.

One half – for her delightfully adorable and loving English Rory that cherished her and supported her.

One half – for her completely encompassing and swallowing alien Doctor that pushed her along when she was slowing and was there the moment she needed him.

She had no idea of the consequences of her eventual choice. It was her choice. But it wasn't. It wasn't a decision of who she chose to love. It was a choice between whose heart she couldn't bear to break.

"I-I… I'm going to my room." Amy's voice was cracking, and as she turned around she saw the Doctor spinning to the console abruptly and beginning some unknown and complicated process that clearly required his full concentration. That man was an actor, a liar of the highest order. She saw him wince rather strangely, but a query to the cause vanished from her mind when she caught Rory in her last glimpse. His eyes were pained, and he closed them as she turned her back to both the men she loved, and walked slowly towards the corridor around the console. She passed Rory, yet didn't touch him – she ignored his presence. Her boots made small clanging noises against the metal grating that covered the TARDIS floor. She passes the Doctor, ignoring the way his actions at the controls halted, and his back froze. She continued her walk, and climbed the two steps.

She could feel two gazes boring into her back, and the way they burned with possession. Both of them.

She took a deep, shuddering breath before a shiver ran the length of her, reawakening nerves that had been cut off under the onslaught of her storm-driven emotions.

Then, she bolted – her feet hitting the now soft carpets in a frantic pattern, leading her in an unknown direction. To a destination she had no clue to, but one she wasn't aiming for. She had no hint of where to go, even if she had said her room, and she just followed where her heart led.

Soon, she gave up, and she felt her feet give way. She fell very suddenly, and hit the ground with a loud thud. But she didn't feel the pain, and dragged her knees up to her chest, her arms wrapping around them. She made an egg shape on the carpet, directly in the middle of a random corridor in the TARDIS, and she buried her head in her arms.

Oh God…

Then, fast footsteps broke her out of her spiralling depression, and she looked up.

He appeared from around the corridor, his eyes locked on hers, worry the primary feature on his face. He noticed her state on the floor, and in a second – it seemed like it to Amy – was sitting next to her, his hand on her face, slowly sliding his fingers across her cheek. One, single tear ran down her face and dropped onto the carpet, where it vanished.

"Oh, Amy…" His voice was pained, and it caused her to shudder in effort to hold in her hysterical sobs.

She closed her eyes and leaned up slightly to hold her face closer to his single hand.

By God… she loved him.

**Hmmm… It's up to you exactly who that was, since I didn't want to loose the turmoil of her choice. Personally, I'm a fan of both pairings, and I thought I'd leave it up to you lot this time. But, I know who it is in my head…**

**Hope you like. The link to the picture that inspired it is on my profile.**


End file.
